


Reptile Brain

by lakeghost



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow Friendship, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Friendship, Penelope Bunce is a Good Friend, Poisoning, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Canon, Protective Simon Snow, Rats, Sickfic, Simon Snow's Wings and Tail, Watford (Simon Snow), Whump, just a bit, that's right it's penny, they recovered from the end of Wayward Son and are working things out, who do you call when ur vampire bf is mysteriously ill?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeghost/pseuds/lakeghost
Summary: The gang returns to Watford, but before they can face their new foe, Simon and company need to figure out what's happening to Baz.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	Reptile Brain

The evening had started out fine, far better than it had any right to, really. The situation at Watford was tense, and their poor excuse for a plan required them to stay off the grounds to avoid detection. This meant that after waiting several hours at the airport for Shepard (delays) and enduring a further lengthy drive through the English countryside, they were cooped up in the cheapest motel that still rented by the night, not the hour.

Simon sprawled on the floral duvet, flipping aimlessly through channels on the box TV while he stretched his wings. There was a sharp double knock on the door, so Simon wasn’t surprised when Baz returned, carrying a bag of takeaway and looking a bit less exhausted than he had two hours ago.

He set the food on the bed by Simon and slid off his jacket onto one of the locked-to-the-rail motel hangers (Who even uses those? Baz, apparently). 

“Evidently, I was single-handedly keeping the rat population of Watford in check. There’s practically an infestation.”

Simon nodded, his mouth full of curry.

Baz rolled his eyes. “To think, there was a time I worried this would be a point of contention in our relationship.” He dug through the bag for a fork and whatever Simon hadn’t opened yet. “You’ll be pleased to know I was the only one lurking in the catacombs tonight. We’ll have to talk to Penny tomorrow, though. Something seemed … off.” He frowned, pensive.

“But that’s a tomorrow problem, yeah?” He punctuated his assertion with further shoveling of food into his mouth.

They’d been half-watching some mediocre action movie when Baz bodily winced at an explosion on screen.

“What’s wrong?” Simon turned to see the head of black hair pillowed on his shoulder.

“Nothing. My head just hurts.” Simon couldn’t see his expression, but he didn’t sound too concerned.

A few more minutes passed and he felt Baz tense again. A bit later, during a car chase, he sat up properly and leaned back against the headboard. Simon wrinkled his eyebrows and stared at him searchingly.

Baz waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine.” His confident tone was undermined when he grimaced and wrapped an arm over his stomach.

“You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

Baz glared. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Please.” His tone was softer, but his eyes were no less boring.

Baz sighed and hunched over a bit. “I just feel a bit sick.” He noticed Simon further crunch his features in concern. “Nauseous. Probably just had too much to eat.”

“You had like three bites of rice.” Baz shrugged and internally chided himself. Simon was rubbing off on him.

Baz unfolded himself from the bed and stood. Simon noticed how he wobbled slightly but played it off as looking for the room key. “I’m going to go get some fresh air. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Simon’s tail flicked nervously where it was draped off the bed. “Do you want me to come with you?” Baz was closer to the overhead light now, and if he could look more grey, somehow did. Maybe it was the fluorescents taking their toll - his skin had a waxy cast to it, and his eyes looked markedly more sunken than they had an hour ago.

Baz shook his head slightly as he opened the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  


He didn’t knock before he shoved the door open this time. Simon shot up to standing, braced for an attack, surprised to see Baz stumble the few steps to the bathroom, coughing. His wings drooped as he heard him thud ungracefully onto the tile.

Simon stood at the doorway. “Can I turn the light on?”

“Sure.”

Baz screwed his eyes closed at the harsh brightness. He coughed wetly and winced. Simon got closer and saw blood in the whites of his eyes. He dropped to his knees to get a better look.

“Baz, what’s -”

“I don’t know.” His voice was thick and strained. He held his head in his hands and curled forward over his knees.

“Are you going to be sick?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“You look pretty sick for a healthy person.” His shoulders bobbed in what Simon interpreted as wry laughter.

Simon tried to think of where this could be coming from. They’d all been stressed and tired, but no one they’d spoken to at Watford seemed ill, definitely not like this. And he really hadn’t eaten much - Simon finished everything he’d ordered for himself. He paused, chewing his lip a moment.

Baz tugged a towel off the little rack by the shower and hacked into it. When he pulled it away he grimaced at the spatter of phlegm and blood staining the cloth.

“Could it be the rats?”

Baz looked up at Simon with an oddly blank stare. He had burst more vessels in his eyes, and Simon gave his best effort to keep his voice steady. Bastard could probably hear his heart racing, though.

“I just mean that maybe you’re used to the rats at home? It’s been a while since you’ve dealt with wild ones.”

“They’re all the same, Snow.” He buried his head in his knees again and took a deep, somewhat stuttering, breath.

“Has this ever happened before?” Simon felt around his pockets for his phone. He needed a lifeline.

Baz groaned and leaned his face against the plexiglass of the shower.

Simon gritted his teeth. “I’m calling Penny.”

***

A few months back, they’d gotten into a tight spot and found themselves at a pet shop, desperate. Baz wouldn’t let him go inside, and demanded he “keep watch” in case there were any rogue goblins they’d failed to dispatch. It was a closer fight than he wanted to admit, and that coupled with a string of mishaps leading up to now had left them worse for wear, Baz especially. Simon glanced back through the shop windows to see Baz gauging what was an appropriate amount of time to spend looking at rabbits before he bought one and drained it behind a skip.

Simon wanted to respect his privacy - none of them was happy about the situation, and he didn’t want to make things worse - but something caught his eye before he could look away. Closer to the display window, lounging under a red heat lamp, was a massive snake, some kind of constrictor. He pondered it for a moment (Should he get Baz a heat lamp? He’s always so cold) and let his eyes wander over the tank. He couldn’t miss the ostentatious sign taped to the glass: “Ask me what I eat! Save on feeder rats - inquire with an employee for more information!” Simon flicked his eyes to toward the front counter to see Baz nodding politely at a woman wearing a polo shirt and a wide smile, and behind her, a few tanks of mealworms and crickets, a cage of mice, and a chilled case full of opaque plastic tubs labelled more of the same.

He returned his eyes to the street in front of him. He doubted there were any more goblins to look out for, but he didn’t want to get caught staring. The small bell on the door chimed as Baz briskly stepped out (Simon noticed his limp. This was definitely the right choice). He turned to Simon.

“Wait here.” His voice was stern and didn’t leave any room for protest.

As he skulked into the shadows of the adjoining alleyway, an idea began to occur to Simon.

  


“Darling?” Baz spoke with an eerie sort of calm.

“Hmm?” Simon looked away from the TV and peered over the back of the couch to get a view of Baz holding open the door of the fridge.

“Why are there dead rodents in the crisper?”

“Hmm?” He’d been trying to think of a good way to word his proposition all afternoon and had gotten nowhere. Thus the TV diversion.

“The drawer at the bottom of the refrigerator? The one that yesterday held romaine lettuce and is currently housing … ‘The highest quality rats for _your_ large snake or lizard’.”

Simon cleared his throat and avoided Baz’s eyes as he set the container on the counter and stepped away from the kitchen toward the living space. He raised an eyebrow to its peak, imploring.

“Well, I was thinking …” The other eyebrow quirked to meet its partner. Simon rolled his eyes. “I was thinking that maybe it, I mean some things, would be easier if we, well you …” This went better in his head, and it was still a disaster then.

Baz had crossed the room and settled on the couch across from him. He was quiet, and Simon could tell he was making an effort to keep his expression neutral, even if the result was still basically a scowl.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react if I brought home live ones first, so I thought I’d bring it up this way.”

“You still haven’t brought anything up. I found dead rats in our fridge and now you’re acting defensive.” He’d really hoped Baz would just guess and end his agony. He wanted to help normalize this for Baz, but he didn’t want to tell him outright that he bought him a tupper of rats to drink. Baz frowned slightly at the continued silence. Simon sighed.

“I realize it’s probably not as good when they’re cold and have been dead for a while, but they’re easier than roaming the woods all night, and I wanted to talk about it before I spent money on a cage and stuff.” He shrugged.

I took a moment before it dawned on Baz.

“This is absurd. I can’t just -” He cut himself off as he gestured toward the kitchen.

Simon bit his lip. Definitely a bad idea.

Baz looked back at him and his expression softened.

“I know you were trying to be thoughtful. But I can’t-”

Simon butted in, adamant. “How is it different than catching squirrels in the park, or rats in the catacombs? It’s cleaner, and safer for you. I can’t imagine it’s enjoyable running down wildlife every single time you want a meal.” Simon considered if regular food could scamper away. Definitely inconvenient.

“It gets me out of the house,” Baz mumbled. Simon huffed.

“Maybe you couldn’t do something like this before, but it wasn’t an option before. If there’s anything I can do to - to make things easier … I want to help, I guess.” He winced.

Baz rested a hand on his shoulder, gentle. Slowly, he brushed it along his shoulder to brace against his neck and jaw. “You’re an absolute lunatic.”

Simon shrugged, awkwardly.

“Once. And you can’t watch.”

  


“I read online you can warm them up in chicken broth.”

“I thought I told you to wait in the other room.” Baz was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, pointedly not looking at the rat currently reheating in the bowl of water beside him. He wrinkled his nose. “That sounds disgusting.”

Simon shrugged and took a seat at the small table on the opposite side of the kitchen. “The people online said it works great on snakes that won’t feed.”

“I’d like to think that I have a slightly more refined palate than a reptile.” He glanced down at the bowl and gingerly prodded the rat. “I hate this.”

Simon sat up straighter and began chewing on the edge of a thumbnail. “You don’t have to, if it’s, I dunno, too weird.” Simon ran through the list in his head of all the ways he had fucked this up. Not only had he managed to offend Baz, but evidently the wet lump wasn’t even appetizing. And who’s to say it even had any nutritional value at this point? Baz had flatout refused the suggestion of keeping live rats, citing that it felt far too much like keeping pets. And besides, the smell would be intolerable. Simon continued to worry at his nail. “I don’t really have a gauge for it. I just thought it seemed safer. More convenient, at least.”

Baz met his eyes with a thoughtful look. His voice was measured when he spoke.

“I didn’t realize you were worried about me getting hurt. It’s ridiculous, obviously, but I … didn’t realize” 

Simon stared at him, astonished. This was the man who spent well over an hour ensuring the wild mushrooms he and Penny had foraged for weren’t poisonous. Hell, he made a fuss when Simon stole blackberries off the bush in their neighbor’s garden, concerned about what kind of pesticides it may have been treated with. Simon thought he was far more justified in his concern over the sourcing of Baz’s meals. He just felt like it was overstepping his bounds a bit to offer advice. This, at least, seemed like a kind gesture.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Baz looked away and began toweling off the rat.

“Sorry,” mumbled Simon. Baz flicked his eyes back across the room and grimaced.

“No, I didn’t mean - ugh.”

They’d been seeing a couples counselor for a while now, trying to get better at communicating and all that. Granted, they were Normal, so they couldn’t get into all the gorey details, but it was still useful. Simon made a concerted effort to work through the conversation instead of abandoning it and storming out of the room. He sighed and pushed forward.

“What is bothering you the most about -” he gestured broadly, “-this, right now?” He squinted his eyes, somewhere between concentration and embarrassment. His effort didn’t go unnoticed; Baz quietly decided what to do with the dead rat in a tea towel he was currently holding and strode over to join Simon at the table. 

“It’s just … a lot more -” he paused again, longer, “-open, then I’m used to. You know that.” Baz tightened his grip slightly on the bundle in his lap. Simon opened his mouth to retort but quickly shut it. Baz sighed. “It feels too easy.” He stopped to think for a moment. “Not easy exactly. More exposed. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Really no plausible deniability when you’re stood in the kitchen drinking a defrosted rat.”

To Simon’s immense relief, Baz smirked slightly.

“Not really, no.”

Simon’s stomach chose this moment to make its presence known and growl loudly.

“Have you not had dinner yet? It’s nearly eight.” Simon thought he sounded awfully incredulous, considering the circumstances.

“I was waiting for you to come home. I got distracted.” Baz frowned. Simon huffed. “If you just try the damn rat I’ll make us both a proper dinner and we can never talk about this again. I just want you to try.” Baz looked like he was about to protest, so Simon interrupted him. “Please.”

Baz smiled, lips pressed together. “Well, you said please.”

Simon grinned and turned himself in his chair to face out toward the living room. Behind him, he heard Baz unwrap the rat and swear quietly to himself. After a brief pause, there was a squelching sound followed by more wet, unpleasant noises. Simon turned back around quickly, but Baz had already finished with the rat and was standing to throw the husk in the bin.

Simon bit his tongue as he watched Baz pace over to the counter and turn the kettle on.

“How many of those did you buy, Snow?”

“Ten. The man at the shop tried to sell me more, but I told him my snake was a nervous eater.” Simon was sure his uncertainty was noticeable in his voice. Baz’s expression was unreadable.

“Crowley.” Baz shook his head as he hid his face behind the refrigerator door and began rummaging about.

Simon stood. “I thought I was making dinner? I mean, you can if you want but - oh.” Baz straightened and set the rat container on the counter. The kettle was approaching a boil. Simon smiled. Baz rolled his eyes and stepped forward to place a fleeting kiss on Simon’s forehead. “I’m going to shower and work on that essay for a bit. Let me know when the kettle goes off.”

Simon watched him disappear down the hall and got to work prepping dinner, too self-satisfied for his own good.

***

Currently, Baz was leaning over the toilet in the tiny motel bathroom, retching. Simon held his hair back initially, but at this point it was mostly dry heaves. The hand not holding the phone to his ear was tugging at his own curls.

Three rings and Penny still hadn’t picked up. She was only a few doors down, it wouldn’t take long to get her in person, but this had already escalated so quickly, he couldn’t abandon Baz. He looked over at the dark-haired man. He’d stopped coughing for the moment, but his eyes were watery. Simon was relieved to hear a voice at his ear.

“Hey Simon! What’s -”

“Baz is sick!” He knew his voice was too loud and winced. “Sorry for interrupting. Hey.”

“Calm down, it’s okay. I’m sure it’s nothing. Shep’s been a little off since we landed, it’s probably something from the plane.”

“Penny, Baz doesn’t _get_ sick.” He kept the panic in his hiss to a minimum.

“Oh - _oh_.” Simon could hear rustling and things clattering about on the other end of the line. “Wait - I’m coming over now.” She hung up. Simon could envision the business-like nod that accompanied it.

In the meantime, he shuffled closer to Baz. He was leaning against the shower, breathing heavily. Simon moved off his knees and sat next to him, up along the salmon pink tile that covered the walls.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

“You’re right, this bathroom is far to ugly to die in.”

  


“It’s secondary poisoning.” Penny was standing at the doorway with her hands on her hips. Shepard had come along, but he’d been banished to the bed for the time being. “How many rats did you have?”

Baz glared at her from his heap on the tile. His haggard appearance lent the expression a more pitiful look than an intimidating one.

“I don’t know. A dozen. More, maybe.” He coughed, and Simon rubbed his back. “Like I said, the catacombs are practically overrun now.”

Penny frowned. “Well, it seems like the grounds staff decided to rely on some more traditional pest control before you came along.”

“What, you think he ate rat poison?” asked Simon, confused.

Penny replied, slightly more exasperated than the situation called for. “I _think_ he ate poisoned rats. I’m not an expert here, but lots of common poisons build up in the blood, and rat poison in particular takes time to actually be fatal.”

“That’s disgusting.” Simon kept sliding his hand over Baz’s shoulders as he wrinkled his face.

“Well, I’m not the one who was indiscriminately slurping down vermin in a crypt.”

“Watch it, Bunce.”

Penny huffed. “I’m sorry. I think I'm a little freaked out.” She noted Simon’s and Baz’s expressions and added, “Obviously just as much as you are.”

“Well, what do we do?” Baz seemed to be in and out at the moment, so Simon focused all his attention on Penny. She looked determined enough for the both of them.

“I probably know as much about vampire physiology as Baz, which, to be fair, isn’t saying much.” Baz groaned, both in response to pain and to voice his irritation. “But if he hasn’t offered anything useful, I think the best thing to do is wait it out.”

“You can’t be serious, Pen.”

“We’ve all seen what he can live through. It won’t be pleasant in the least, but right now we don’t have an alternative.”

“Would blood help?”

“Simon, he’s literally right next to you, don’t ask me.”

Simon nudged Baz to assess his level of consciousness. Baz rolled his head to meet his eyes and paused to think for a long second. “Don’t think I could keep it down.”

Penny nodded. “Fair enough.”

“What, so we cross our fingers and hope for the best?” Simon began to raise his voice, despite himself.

Baz leaned away from the wall to flop onto Simon’s shoulder. “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “I feel better already.”

“Are you two going to be okay for the night? I can sleep on the chair if you want someone else around.” Simon took in the shadows under her eyes and the slump in her shoulders. They’d all been through a lot recently.

“Nah. And take Shepard with you. I’m sure he’ll find this whole mess endlessly fascinating and I’m not sure I’m really in the mood.”

Penny smirked. “Goodnight, Simon.”

***

The shades were drawn tightly closed, and the only light left on was the one in the bathroom, spilling out slightly into the rest of the room. Baz stirred and rolled over to face the chair Simon was sitting in. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and scooched closer to the rumpled mess of sheets that was Baz.

“Are you awake?”

“No.” His eyes were closed and his face stayed half-buried in the pillow.

“Good, because I brought you breakfast and it’s only getting colder.”

Baz opened his eyes to look at Simon but otherwise didn’t move. There was still a little bit of red in his eyes, but it had healed a lot since last night.

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one. Penny and Shep have been hunting for information all morning, so you didn’t miss anything exciting.” Baz slowly pulled the sheets down from his shoulders and frowned when he looked down to see the wrinkled shirt he’d been sleeping in all night. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I drank battery acid. Marginally better than taking a shotgun to the chest.” Baz noticed the items on the nightstand for the first time and smiled. “I’m flattered.”

Simon had poured the most sickeningly sweet coffee the vending machine had to offer (it had hazelnut _and_ caramel in the name) from its styrofoam cup into one of the slightly nicer plastic ones the motel kept by the kettle. Beside the coffee were three toasty warm rats, bundled in a fresh washcloth. Simon spent a fair chunk of the morning searching for a reptile specialty store nearby, which Shephard found hilarious and Penny claimed was a waste of time. The little arrangement on the nightstand was comically slapdash, but nonetheless heartwarming.

Baz slowly reached over and claimed the coffee first, giving it a hesitant sip. Simon didn’t miss him eyeing the rat bundle from over the lip of the mug. “I could kiss you right now.”

Simon grinned. “What’s stopping you?”

“If I move quickly, I will absolutely be sick on you.” A small smile spread across Baz’s face.

“Then sit still, you numpty.”

Simon still managed to catch Baz in the face with a wing as he moved to sit beside him on the bed. He mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ as he settled beside Baz and moved to pull him into a hug, forcing Baz to set his coffee back down to avoid spilling it. Simon’s face was pressed to Baz’s chest, and he could hear the slow, odd heartbeat steadily pumping as he held him tighter. Baz softly scratched at the space between his wings. They were both quiet for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you were there.”


End file.
